Ghosts of Our Past
by Deliwiel
Summary: During a training session, Natasha and Peter are attacked and taken by someone from Natasha's past whom she thought was dead. She and Peter fight for their lives as they try to escape, but things are never that easy for any of the Avengers. Rated T for some injuries and my paranoia. No pairings, just friendships all around.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey hey hey! So I'm starting to try and write more stories in the Marvel fandom! I'm not super great at it yet, but I know improvement only comes with practice.**_

 _ **I also haven't seen a ton of Black Widow stories, so while this does have several other Avengers in it, it's mostly gonna focus on Natasha. And Peter, a little.**_

 _ **I'd love to know what you guys think!**_

 _ **Also, any translations I need to add in will be at the bottom of the chapters :)**_

 _ **I don't own Marvel or any of the characters.**_

"Good," Natasha said to Peter Parker when the teenager blocked one of her attacks. As he grinned and looked proud of himself though, Natasha swept her leg under his. She expected the teenager to fall flat on his back, but instead he performed a partial kick-up jump and landed back on his feet.

"Luck," Natasha commented.

Peter's eyebrow quirked. "Talent," he argued.

"That's not enough," Natasha stated. "This needs to be an instinct, a skill. Talent will only get you so far."

Peter opened his mouth, intending to argue that talent had kept him alive till now, but before he could, Natasha came at him again. He blocked a series of jabs and kicks to his face and legs, but gave the spy an opening, which she took. Her boot connected with Peter's midsection, and the teenager fell to the ground, the air leaving his body in a _whoosh_ of air. He wasn't hurt; Natasha had made sure that her kick wasn't as hard as it could have been, but it definitely wasn't a tickle.

Peter groaned and flopped onto the floor, spreadeagled. "Why can't I just use my suit and webs and get the bad guys that way?" he asked as he stared at the ceiling. He was sweating. Natasha looked at the clock; they'd been training for almost two hours.

"Because," Natasha replied. "You might not always have your suit, or you might run out of webbing. Hand-to-hand is a skill you should know if you're going to be in this line of work." When Peter didn't get up or give any indication that he was going to comply, the redhead rolled her eyes. "Come on," she instructed. She took two strides over to the apparently-defeated teenager. When she reached him, Peter suddenly kicked his legs in a circular motion, sweeping Nat's legs out from under her, just like she'd tried to do to him a few minutes prior. Natasha let out a surprised grunt, but when she landed on her back, she simply rolled backwards and got up immediately. She flipped her hair out of her face and had to block Peter's attacks as he came at her with an energy she hadn't seen in the boy yet.

She was impressed by how quick Peter's attacks were, even if they did seem a little rushed and sloppy. She still had to protect herself from them. At one point during their sparring, Natasha noticed an opening in Peter's defenses, and she exploited it. A quick jab to the back of his knee had him hitting the floor, but he'd learned from Natasha. He used the momentum and went into a front roll. When he got back to his feet, he turned and saw Natasha running at him. Without hesitating, Peter vaulted straight up into the air, and when he landed, it was behind the redhead.

Natasha was forced to come to a halt as she turned to face the teenager again, but Peter leaned out of the way of her punch and grabbed her wrist, twisting it in a fashion that she'd taught him earlier, and the spy was forced into a forward somersault, which ended with her landing on her back. Before she could make a counterattack, Peter was twisting her arm again so that she was forced to roll onto her stomach, where the teenager pinned Natasha's arm to her back.

By that point, Peter was having to blink sweat out of his eyes, refusing to let go of his 'captive,' and even Natasha was panting for breath.

"Much better," Natasha panted, turning her head as far as she could to glance back at him. Peter got a wide grin on his face, and released the Widow when she tapped the mat. They both got to their feet, and Peter finally wiped the sweat off his face with his shirt. Natasha shook her arm a little bit.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" Peter asked, immediately dropping the confident air he'd gotten and going back to the sweet teenager who wanted to protect people.

"Not bad," Natasha assured him. "Believe me, I've had worse training sessions." She looked at the young man with a critical eye, but Peter detected a hint of pride as she looked him up and down.

"That was a good tactic," she commented, referring to his flop on the floor. "You had me going for a minute."

"Thanks," Peter replied, unable to stop the small grin that escaped as he heard the Widow's compliment.

Natasha tensed herself, preparing to launch another assault, but paused when she saw the kid's expression change from his smile to a confused and almost concerned look. The teenager looked around slowly, as if searching for something, and before Natasha could start her next attack, the teenager turned and hurled himself at Black Widow, throwing them both to the ground. Natasha's eyes widened, but she didn't fight back, because as they fell, gunfire began ringing out. Bullets pierced the wall right where she'd been standing before Peter had tackled her.

The gunfire stopped after a few seconds, and Natasha immediately pushed Peter's arms off her and got up into a crouch, pulling a small gun from one of her boots while a knife was produced from the other.

"How—where…" Peter didn't finish his question as he thought about who he was talking to. Instead, he got up and prepared for battle. His suit was in his backpack, which was in the locker room across the hall. He knew he didn't have time to grab it, especially because at that moment, one of the doors was kicked open.

Natasha fired one bullet from her weapon, and the man that entered first dropped to the ground. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only attacker. More men came through the door. Natasha was doing her best at keeping the intruders at bay, but her gun didn't have unlimited bullets, and sooner than she would have liked, she heard the clicking of an empty magazine. Without batting an eye at the now-empty gun, Natasha simply brought her arm back and hurled it at one of the men advancing on them, dropping him like a stone as it hit him in the center of his forehead.

Now that her long-distance weapon was gone, Natasha lunged at the closest man to her, forcing him to fight with her and her knife, which was more of a blur than anything.

One of the men managed to wrap his arms around her chest, pinning her arms to her side, and she got a glimpse of Peter vaulting himself over the men he was fighting, similar to what he'd done to hear earlier, but this time instead of trying to pin them, the teenager just pushed his foot into the man's sternum as he turned around to find his opponent, and the stranger was slammed into the wall, where he crumpled like a rag doll.

Confident that Peter was able to manage on his own for at least a little longer, Natasha jerked her head back into the nose of the man holding her, smirking a little as she heard the satisfying crunch of the man's nose breaking. She was released, and without waiting another moment, she turned and kicked out, similar to what Peter had done with his own attacker.

The man crumpled and fell to the floor, but more men just replaced him and continued the assault.

The two heroes were still fighting, and they seemed to be holding their own, but that was before Natasha caught a glimpse of the next man who came in the door. Her eyes widened and she let her guard down. Taking advantage of her distractedness, one of the men attacking her swung his gun at her head. She noticed the movement out of the corner of her eye at the last second and tried to roll out of the way, but the butt of the gun still managed to clip her and send her to the floor.

She heard Peter yell when he saw her fall, but she didn't get up. She stayed on the ground, waiting, listening. Even when she heard something hard connecting with flesh and Peter grunted, she didn't move. Instead, she waited until she knew _he_ was right above her, and then she shot up as fast as she could, jamming her palm into the man's nose.

He seemed to be expecting that though, and he caught her hand before she made contact with his nose. Not that easily deterred, Natasha brought her other hand up and raked her nails across his cheek.

The man let out a shout of pain. His cheek began bleeding but he only tightened his grip on her wrist. Natasha's face tightened slightly as the man began twisting her wrist slightly as his blood dripped from his cheek to the mat.

"Good to see you too, _Natalia_ ," the man greeted, his Russian accent dripping with disdain.

"Alexei," Romanov replied, jerking her hand as she tried to free her wrist. "I thought you were dead."

Alexei's eyes tightened, as did his grip. Natasha wanted to rip her hand free, but one of his other men had grabbed her free hand, so for the moment, she was stuck. "A valiant attempt on your part," he admitted. "Apparently it wasn't my time to go yet though."

Natasha looked to the side and saw Peter on the ground. When he'd seen her get hit with the gun, it had given his attackers enough opportunity to get the drop on him, and now the teenager was holding his head and groaning. She looked back at Alexei.

"Pust' idet mal'chik. On ne imeyet nichego obshchego s etim."

Alexei observed her, then looked over at the teenager. With a jerk of his head, the man standing over Peter leaned down and hoisted the boy up by the front of his shirt. Natasha noticed Peter's eyes were slightly unfocused, but she couldn't think about how hard the hit to his head must have been. The only thing she could let herself focus on was the problem at hand.

So when the man holding Peter delivered a solid right hook to the teenagers face, knocking him unconscious and then dropping him like a stone, Natasha didn't react. She just stared coldly into the face of the man she had thought dead. He matched her gaze, but his eyes had a cold, icy glint to them.

After a few moments of meeting Natasha's gaze, Alexei cleared his throat and looked away. Natasha felt a small moment of triumph in knowing that she had made him uncomfortable enough that he broke gaze first. The moment of triumph was short-lived though, because with another jerk of his chin, the butt of someone's gun was slammed on top of Natasha's head, and she crumpled to the floor in a limp mass.

Not trusting completely that the woman was out cold, Alexei nodded at one of his men, who turned her onto her back cautiously. The man carefully crouched down and tapped the Widow's cheeks, and when she didn't react at all, he nodded at Alexei.

"Good. Pack them up and let's move out."

"Them?" one of the men asked. "We are bringing the boy?"

"At least for now. I don't know who he is to Natalia, but we may be able to use him to make her cooperate."

Without waiting for any other questions to be asked, Alexei turned on his heel and strode out of the gym. With no choice but to follow orders, Alexei's men bound and restrained both of their prisoners and lifted them up.

They exited the gym as well and deposited their cargo in the back of a van before climbing in the back themselves. They closed the doors and hit the walls, alerting the driver that they were ready, and with a rumble, the van took off.

 _ **Okay! So what do you guys think? Like I said, I've mostly written only for the MacGyver fandom, but I've started branching out into writing Marvel stories as well. What do you guys think? In character? Out of character? Hard to follow? Questions, concerns, comments?**_

 _ **Let me know!**_

pust' idet mal'chik. on ne imeyet nichego obshchego s etim - let the boy go. He has nothing to do with this. (According to google translate)


	2. Chapter 2

_**Wow. Wow. Wow. I am blown away by the response this got with the first chapter! Thank you all soooooo much! Lol now I feel like I've set the expectation really high though, and you're all gonna be disappointed with the rest of the story XD**_

 _ **Anyway, let me know what you guys think! (Also, translations at the bottom of the chapter.)**_

 _ **I don't own these characters; they all belong to Marvel.**_

"Boss, there's a disturbance at the training gym." The Scottish AI's voice cut through Tony's concentration, and he looked up.

"What's going on? We got cameras? Get me eyes inside."

"I'm tryin' Boss, but it looks like the feed has been cut."

"Get then back up."

"Right away."

Stark thought for a moment. "What kind of disturbance?"

"Gunshots have been fired. Natasha and Peter were having a training session inside."

Stark immediately got to his feet. "Alert Barton and whoever else is nearby," Stark instructed. He began walking towards the door, hardly noticing when his Iron Man armor began engulfing him, completely covering him before he even exited his lab.

"Agent Barton is on his way to the lab; I'm working on getting ahold of anyone else," Friday reported.

Stark didn't respond. He located one of the many openings in the compound specifically put in for the purpose of allowing him to take off from wherever without breaking the walls, and he quickly flew to the other side of the grounds, where the training center sat, right on the edge of the property.

"Why didn't anyone notice when people showed up who didn't belong?" Stark asked as he approached the building.

"I'm not sure, Boss."

"Look into it."

"On it."

Stark flew through the doors of the training center, his hands out in front of him, prepared for a fight if needed. What he wasn't prepared for was seeing half a dozen or so men on the floor. Most of them were clearly dead, but Stark noticed one man against the wall who was beginning to stir and groan.

Stark stomped over to the man on the ground and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, lifting him off the ground with ease.

"Alright here's the deal. You've got exactly five seconds to tell me what happened or I gladly blast a hole through your chest right now."

"Stark," Clint called out as he jogged through the now-broken doors of the training center, taking in the sight around him. "What's going on?"

"Our friend was just about to tell us," Stark replied, placing his palm flat against the man's chest and letting his suit hum with the energy buildup.

"Shostokov," the man choked out.

"Shostokov? Who's Shostokov?" Stark asked impatiently. "Friday?"

"On it."

Stark looked back at the man he was holding. "I may go a little easier on you if you don't make me rely on my AI googling whoever this Shostokov is," he offered.

"Ask your … friend there," the man said, panting for breath as he jerked his chin towards Clint. Stark looked over at the archer and saw that Hawkeye's face had tightened at the Russian name.

"Clint?"

Barton didn't answer. He stalked over to the man the billionaire was holding. Faster than Stark could blink, Clint had drawn his bow and loaded with an arrow from his quiver as he aimed the weapon at their prisoner.

"Where'd he take her?" Barton asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

The man leered. "You kill me, you never find out."

Barton smirked. "Who said this was going to kill you?" He lightly touched the arrowhead to the man's shoulder and sent a violent electric shock through the man's body. The Russian shouted in pain.

"Nice to see the new arrows work," Stark commented.

"Yeah. Nat had a hand in designing this one," Barton replied. Their voices were casual, as if he and Stark were talking about the weather.

The man cursed at them in Russian. Friday automatically translated it for Stark, and Barton had picked up enough of the language from Natasha that they both understood what the man was saying. Tony tightened his fist around the man's shirt and lifted him higher off the ground.

"You can swear at us all you like," Stark said. "That doesn't mean a thing to us. Definitely doesn't hurt my feelings. It just pisses me off a little more."

Clint pulled back on his bowstring a little tighter. "You wanna try answering our question again?"

"Barton, Stark. What's going on here?" Steve Rogers walked into the training center, looking first at the destroyed doors, then down to the bodies on the floor, then up to his two companions. "I got Friday's alert. What happened?"

"That's what we're trying to get this guy to tell us," Barton replied, not looking back at Steve. Instead, he touched the arrowhead to the man's shoulder again, making the prisoner groan through clenched teeth. Barton left the arrow on his shoulder until Steve's voice rang out again.

"That's enough."

With a glare, Barton finally removed the taser arrow, though he didn't lower his bow.

"What happened?" Rogers asked again, stepping forward.

"Someone named Shostokov apparently attacked Natasha. She's gone," Stark explained. "Barton, care to tell us who this guy is?"

"I don't know him personally. I know that it was before Nat's time with SHIELD."

"How you say, Stark," their prisoner taunted. "No … politics. Just good old fashioned … revenge."

"Revenge, huh? What's the revenge for?"

"Boss," Friday interjected. "You're gonna want to see this." The AI projected her findings on Stark's HUD, and Tony watched and read different reports on their mysterious Russian.

"Says here he hasn't been seen in almost fifteen years," Stark announced.

"Because he died," Barton explained, finally taking his eyes off the man they were holding. "Alexei Shostokov was the last … mission Nat had before joining SHIELD. Wealthy son of a wealthy warlord, Nat was tasked with getting close to him and exploiting as many secrets as she could. When she'd done that, she faked her death by collapsing a building, but Shostokov had followed her there. He got caught in the explosion."

"Or not," Stark replied, shrugging his shoulders. Clint gave the billionaire a deadpan look.

"Normal people don't just walk away from getting caught in explosions."

"Apparently someone did."

"Stark," Rogers cautioned. Tony shut his mouth as Steve walked towards the captive. "Where'd they take Natasha?"

"And where's the kid that was here with her?"

At the mention of Peter, Steve and Barton both looked at Stark.

"He was here training with her," the billionaire explained. Understanding dawned in the other two's eyes, and Steve pinned their prisoner with a steely glare.

"I believe you were asked a question."

 _0-0-0_

Natasha stayed still. She was processing whatever information she could sense. Her arms were restrained behind her back, secured with manacles. They were chafing her wrists, but she didn't pay attention to the uncomfortableness. Someone was next to her, not moving, and even without opening her eyes, she knew who it was.

After a few more minutes of gathering as much intel as she could without sight, Natasha finally cracked opened her eyes. Just like she'd thought, Peter Parker was lying on his side, his back to her. Natasha observed the manacles around his wrists as well. Alexei definitely didn't want to take any chances.

As if he'd heard Natasha thinking about him, Peter groaned and began stirring. He flexed his fingers and wrists, as if trying to test how strong the manacles were. He rolled over onto his back, but when he felt his fingers getting crushed, he grimaced and rolled up into a sitting position instead.

"What happened?" he asked as he looked around. Natasha noticed a nasty bruise and bump on the kid's head, though she also knew about his healing factor; it wouldn't be a problem for long.

"The past came back to bite me," Natasha muttered in reply, sitting up and looking around as well. Natasha noticed something blinking in the corner, and she realized it was a camera; they were being watched, which meant that Alexei knew they were awake. Almost immediately after she came to that realization, Peter sat up straight and turned his head towards the door.

Realizing that Peter probably heard someone coming their way, she got the rest of the way to her feet and went to crouch by Peter.

"Peter, listen to me," Natasha muttered quickly, talking quietly so as not to be overheard by the cameras. "You can't use your strength or senses against them."

"What?" Peter hissed back, looking at the spy like she was crazy.

"They don't know what you can do yet. We need to keep the element of surprise on our side if we want to get out of here." She paused, debating whether or not she should continue. Deciding it would be for the best not to let anything be a surprise for the super-powered teenager, she kept speaking. "Peter, they're probably going to hurt you. And me. But you _can't_ let them know what you can do."

Peter's eyes were slightly wider.

"Promise me," Natasha said, firmly enough that Peter knew she wasn't joking, but also somehow gentle, letting the teenager know she was empathetic towards the situation she was putting him. After a moment, he gave her an understanding, albeit a shaky and hesitant nod. Natasha nodded back at him encouragingly. Her eyes shot up to the door as she finally heard what Peter had a few moments ago. Footsteps. They stopped outside the door to their room, and an order was barked in Russian to let them inside. As the door was unlocked and pushed open, Peter scooted back until he was up against the wall, trying to put as much distance between him and their captors as he could. Natasha stayed where she was.

Alexei walked into the room, his confidence and superiority complex permeating the air as if it were a tangible object. Two men walked in and grabbed Natasha by the arms, hoisting her to her feet. She found at least a dozen different ways she could have gotten out at that point, but she meant what she told Peter; they needed the element of surprise on their side. However, she did shake herself out of their grip with an annoyed glare.

"Natalia," Alexei drawled. Natasha stared at the man coldly. At the redhead's refusal to respond, the man gave her a pout. "No greeting for your long-lost lover? Oh wait." He backhanded Natasha across the face, whipping her head to the side. Peter let out a shout of protest, but when three men advanced on him, he backed down. "You never loved me."

Natasha slowly turned her head back towards the Russian. There was a cut above her right cheekbone that leaked a few drops of blood, but she didn't pay any mind to it. She felt slightly smug however, when she saw a butterfly bandage closing up the scratches left by her nails when she had raked her hand across Alexei's cheek.

"You have nothing to say to me?" Alexei yelled.

Natasha weighed the words she chose carefully, then looked up at her ex. "I think I made my feelings for you clear the last time we … _spoke,_ " she said, smirking at the last word.

Without warning, though not unexpected to Natasha, Alexei shouted and kicked his foot out, connecting with the redhead's chest. The spy was thrown back into the wall and the back of her head connected with the structure. She blinked the stars out of her eyes and coughed as she immediately began assessing the damage to her midsection.

She knew she had at least one or two cracked ribs, if not more, but she was pretty sure she didn't have a concussion. With her injuries accounted for, Romanoff straightened back up and stared at Alexei again, never wavering in her cold glare. Behind the man, she could see the three guards who had advanced on Peter struggling to hold him back as he tried to get to the woman, but with one look, she reminded him of what she had said earlier, and he calmed his attempts down.

Alexei noticed her staring behind him, and he turned to face Peter. He looked back at Natasha, who was staring at the man with an unreadable expression. Narrowing his eyes, Alexei made a gesture with his hand, and Natasha watched as the men set on Peter, punching and kicking the teenager wherever they could.

Natasha tried to take the man's attention off Peter. "Tak vy poluchayete udovol'stviye? Izbiyeniye zhenshchin i detey?"

Alexei paused momentarily to turn back to the redhead, who had changed from glaring at him to staring at him with mock pity. "Are we the only ones you can actually beat in a fight?" she asked, switching back to English.

Shosotkov chuckled and bared his teeth at Natasha in what was supposed to be a menacing look, but the redhead could tell she was getting under his skin. "I know what you are trying to do," he stated. "You try to keep my sights off boy. Brave," he commented. "But unsuccessful. Wait your turn, Natalia," he ground out. With that he turned back to Peter, and the beating stopped, at least for the moment. "Who are you to her?" he asked, jerking his head towards Natasha.

When Peter didn't respond, Alexei rolled his eyes in annoyance, and the beating seemed more intense than before as it started up again.

Peter's grunts and short yelps of pain did nothing to make the assassin waver in her detached attitude. Finally, after what felt like forever, Alexei waved his hand again, and the men backed off. Peter sagged in the grip of the men holding him, and Natasha could already see the bruises forming on his cheeks, and one of his eyes was swollen. She could imagine what his chest looked like, all peppered with bruises and cuts too.

The teenager was panting and gasping for breath, but Natasha forced herself to block out the pained sounds coming from him as Alexei stepped closer to her.

"Kto on dlya vas?"

"Nikto. V nepravil'nom meste v nepodkhodyashcheye vremya."

Alexei barked out a laugh. "Don't play with me, Natalia. I grew tired of your games long before you left me."

"How did you find me?" she asked. She was genuinely curious, and she hoped that by taking his attention back to herself, he would leave Peter alone.

"You mean after you faked your own death and ran away with military secrets? It was difficult, yes. For years, I truly believed you had actually been caught in that explosion and were dead. I refused to believe that you had betrayed me and merely used me to get to the information I had access to. Then imagine my surprise when I see you on TV one day, fighting aliens in New York. I was crushed with the weight of the reality that my worst fear had come true."

"Your worst fear was that your girlfriend would fake her death and steal military secrets? I wish I had the comforts of your life," Natasha quipped. "You know, you would think that when a girl tries to fake her death, it should be a hint to the guy that she doesn't want to see him anymore," she commented drily.

Without even waiting for a signal from Alexei, one of his henchmen planted his boot in Peter's torso, and there was an audible _crack._ The teenager coughed and gasped for air, tears coming to his eyes as he fought against every instinct he had telling him to fight back.

"You weren't just my girlfriend, Natalia," Alexei reminded her in a dangerously quiet voice as Peter coughed in the background. He was glancing at her left hand, as if he expected the diamond ring to still be on her hand.

"That was never real, Alexei," Natasha replied coldly. Shosokov looked like he wanted to argue, but after a minute he shut his mouth, staring back at Natasha with as much contempt as he could. Finally, after a minute, he simply said,

"It was for me."

She was expecting the attack, but it didn't make it any less jarring when it came. The first thing they did was kick her knees out from under her, and while she knew she could easily fall into a roll, she wanted to lull their captors into a false sense of security, so she simply fell to her knees with a grunt.

You cut your hair," Alexei commented as he observed his ex. "I liked it better long."

One of his goons grabbed Natasha by her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her neck. Her voice was tight as she responded. "Guess it's a good thing we're not together anymore," she said, almost going cross eyed as she stared at Alexei.

In one smooth motion, Shostokov pulled out a gun Natasha knew he had been carrying behind his back.

Natasha eyed the gun aimed at her heart, unimpressed.

"I am disappointed, Natalia," Alexei said with a pout. "All the research I have done promised that you would be a challenge. Maybe you are not so good as I think you are."

She knew he was taunting her, challenging her to try and get her to fight back, but she wasn't going to take the bait. "Are you going to shoot me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shostokov continued aiming the weapon at her, the hatred clear in his eyes before he finally withdrew his gun and put it back in its holster. The man holding her hair released the redhead, but as soon as he had did, a cattle prod was jammed into the spy's side and turned on.

The electricity made Natasha seize and fall over. No matter how hard she tried to relax, the current flowing through her body was making every muscle tighten in pain. Dimly she heard Peter shouting at the men, but either the blood rushing to her ears made her unable to hear his shouts, or the men were forcing him to be quiet.

When the cattle prod was finally removed, Natasha stayed still on the floor, taking in deep breaths as she tried to calm her racing heart. She could definitely hear the men pounding on Peter, forcing him to stop yelling at them. It seemed to take hours, but it was actually only a few moments before Natasha was able to take in a final deep breath and push herself into a sitting position.

She briefly glanced at Peter and saw the teenager curled in on himself as the men finally stepped away from him. The young man didn't get up or make an attempt to move, and Natasha felt a spike of worry for the boy in her chest, but she forced it down as Alexei stood in front of her. For a second, Natasha prepared herself for another assault, but it never came. Alexei simply sneered at the woman before turning to walk towards the door.

"My men will be back in a few minutes to move you two. If you don't want anything else to happen to the boy, I would be on your best behavior." Without another word, Alexei turned and strode out of the room, his men following behind. Natasha heard Alexei order some of his men to stand guard by the door. The redhead looked over at the teenager, who was thankfully beginning to stir. She made her way over and sat down next to him.

"Sorry," Peter groaned as she sat next to him.

"Got nothing to be sorry for, kid," the spy replied. "You did good."

"No, not that," Peter muttered. Natasha stared at him in mild confusion. She saw the teenager shrug his shoulders and wiggle his arms a little, and she leaned back slightly. What she saw made her smile slightly and chuckle.

"I couldn't stop myself when they started hurting you," Peter admitted. "It just sorta … happened."

Natasha stared at the now-broken chain that used to link the boy's manacles together, smirking as Peter kept his arms behind his back to keep up appearances.

"This is actually perfect," she assured him. Then, lowering her voice even more, she added, "When they come back, we'll make our move."

Peter nodded. He slowly pushed himself up, being careful to keep his arms behind his back. When he was finally in a sitting position, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. Natasha hesitated; she knew the teenager hadn't been trained to withstand torture, and he looked awful.

"You holding up okay?" she asked.

Peter slowly opened his eyes and looked over at the redhead slightly incredulously.

"Peachy," he finally quipped. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"You've been around Stark too long," she muttered, though there was no bite in her words. The spy looked up at the camera for a moment, then turned her head just in case someone was watching and tried to read her lips. She also kept her voice as low as possible to avoid detection by any mikes, or the guards outside.

"Are you able to run?"

The teenager looked at her, trying to hide the pain in his eyes as he nodded.

"Good. Here's what we're going to do …"

 _ **Okay, so there's chapter two. Thoughts? Is it a letdown from the first chapter? XD**_

"Tak vy poluchayete udovol'stviye? Izbiyeniye zhenshchin i detey? - So do you enjoy it? Beating women and children?

kto on dlya vas? - who is he to you?

Nikto. V nepravil'nom meste v nepodkhodyashcheye vremya - no one. Just wrong place wrong time


	3. Chapter 3

_**I love you all. The support for this story is blowing me away. I'm so glad you all like it so much! Also, this chapter seemed rough to me, so let me know what you guys think?**_

Peter's head shot up and he looked towards the door, alerting Natasha that the teenager had heard someone coming their way. Peter then glanced at the spy, who gave him a nod. Peter returned the gesture, showing that he was ready, though his face was tight in anticipation.

Soon the key was inserted into the lock, jangling loudly as the tumblers were turned. When the door was pushed open, four men came inside and made their way over to Natasha and Peter. The redhead waited another moment, then as soon as the guards were within arms reach, she made her move.

"Now!" she shouted, kicking her legs out and catching the men by her in the legs.

Peter brought his hands out from behind his back and went into his own assault. While Natasha was much more of a head-on attacker, Peter usually tried to keep his distance unless absolutely necessary. The room was too small for him to keep his distance this time, but he did stay as far back as he could, making them come to him, then flipping over their heads and using their own momentum against them.

Within a few moments, all four guards were subdued. Natasha's were limp on the ground, bruises already forming on their faces, while Peter's men were crumbled in heaps on the ground after running into the wall.

Peter fumbled around on one of the belts of the guards, grabbing a key that he used to unlock Natasha's manacles, then his own. Once her arms were free, the redhead reached into the pocket of the man she'd just knocked out and tossed the cell phone over to Peter as they left the room. "Call Stark."

Peter began dialing, but shouts from down the hallway encouraged the the two of them to start running. Their element of surprise was gone.

It was slightly difficult, dialing a number on a touch screen while running, but Peter finally managed to dial Stark's number, and he held the phone up to his ear as they continued running. Several rings went by, and Peter began to despair, thinking that his mentor wouldn't answer the unknown number, but the teenager's heart soared when the billionaire finally picked up.

"I don't know how you got this number, but-"

"Mr. Stark?"

"Kid! Where are you?"

Peter was about to say that he didn't know, but Stark beat him to the punch. "Nevermind, just keep the phone on. Friday's tracing the call now."

"Hey!" Natasha yelled, jerking her head for Peter to follow her down a different hallway.

"Hold on kid, we're coming now," Stark assured the teenager. Peter felt relief flow through his chest, but it didn't last long. His senses told him that something was coming. Instinctively, the teenager jumped high into the air and clung to the ceiling as a man barrelled towards him from the side with a yell. When he jumped, Peter had to use both hands to hold onto the roof, and he was forced to drop the phone.

Natasha heard the shout and turned to see what was going on. What she found was Peter dropping from the ceiling on top of the man who'd come out of the shadows. The teenager easily took the man out with the weight of his fall, but both escapees knew that they were far from safe. They continued running, leaving the phone abandoned on the ground.

"Kid?" Stark was yelling through the phone, but he was greeted with only silence. If anyone had been around, they would have heard the billionaire let out a string of curses.

From what Natasha could see, they were in some sort of multi-story compound. The quickest way to get out would be to get down the stairs just ahead of them.

"Kid!"

When Peter looked at her, Natasha nodded towards the staircase, and a look of understanding lit Peter's eyes up. He sped up as much as he could, passing the redhead and vaulting over the railing. It was only two flights of stairs, so Peter hit the floor fairly quickly, landing lightly on his feet. The teenager turned around in time to look for the spy. He saw her quickly approaching the staircase, but before she could jump, someone jumped at her from behind, and she was thrown into the railing.

Having dealt with much worse before, the redhead simply let her reflexes take over, kicking back and letting her foot connect solidly with her attacker's midsection. As he fell back though, he managed to grab Natasha's ankle and used his own fall to throw the redhead's feet into the air. With that added momentum, Natasha toppled over the side of the railing.

"Oh gosh," Peter muttered as his heart dropped, running forward to catch the spy. However, it wasn't the first time Natasha had been thrown over a railing, and her hands tightened on the bannister, stopping her fall. Her shoulders twisted funny, but she didn't let go.

"You okay?" Peter called up.

"Keep running," Natasha ordered in lieu of an answer. She looked down, gauging the distance. When she noticed Peter still standing there, she glared at him. "Go!"

Hoping the young man did as she ordered, she began swinging back and forth slightly, trying to get some more momentum. Finally, on a forward swing, the redhead let go of the railing. She fell through the air and landed on the floor, where she felt _and_ heard a sickening _pop_ in her ankle when she connected with the ground. She fell into a roll to avoid falling flat on her face, but when she tried to get up and take a step, she stumbled as her ankle flared painfully.

She would have tripped, but Peter had (not surprisingly) ignored her instructions to keep running, and he caught her arm, preventing her from falling again.

"I told you to go," she panted, though she didn't seem too upset about it.

"Sorry," he replied as he helped pull her along the hallway, not actually sounding all that sorry.

There was a door straight ahead of them, and now that she was a little more accustomed to the pain, Natasha was able to block it out and put more weight on her injured ankle, though she still had a heavy limp. When the two of them burst through the door though, they skidded to a stop though as they were met with no way out. At least, no easy way. There were windows about six feet up, but no other doors besides the one they had just come through.

Peter met Natasha's gaze. She could see it in the boy's eyes; he was scared, but his resolve was also apparent. She gave a short nod, and they both turned around to face their pursuers in sync.

Natasha took out the first three men that attacked her with ease, though she was having to use her injured ankle. She had been trained to fight through minor injuries like that though, so it was already ingrained in her movements. After flipping one man onto his back, she then rolled him up right as one of his companions shot at her, using the man as a human shield. Once he was taken care of, Natasha slung the limp body at another approaching man, making them both tumble to the ground. While they were distracted, she took a two-step running jump and leapt up, landing on another man's shoulders and jamming her elbow into his neck. When he collapsed in pain, Natasha rolled forward straight into her next attacker.

Peter was doing well, his training with Natasha playing in the back of his mind as he ducked punches, avoided leg swipes, and yanked guns out of the hands of the men attacking him. His enhanced strength and reflexes were playing a large part in his success as well.

It seemed like they were doing so well, but suddenly the kid felt something off. His spidey senses had been going haywire since they'd escaped their room, but the feeling that something was wrong increased tenfold. He wanted to look for what was causing the distress signal, but the men attacking him demanded his attention more. However, when he heard the cocking of a gun, the teenager ignored his attackers. He looked to over at the door and saw Alexei level his gun at Natasha, almost in slow motion.

Immediately, Peter ran forward, launching himself at Natasha trying to knock her out of the way just as Shostokov pulled the trigger.

A _bang_ echoed around the room, and Natasha whirled around just in time to see Peter jump in front of her, then fall to the ground. She tried catching him, but more men had caught up with them. They grabbed her and jabbed a taser into her neck, dropping her like a rock. She hit the ground hard, but when hands reached down to grab her again, she used the last reserves of her energy and adrenaline to fight back. She wrapped her legs around one of her attacker's necks, using the momentum to swing herself upwards and send him crashing down. The shock from the taser had made her vision fuzzy, and she felt her limbs trembling, but she managed to get to her feet. Things almost seemed to be going her way, until she felt something pinch her arm.

When she glanced over, a syringe was being extracted from her arm. Knowing she had precious few moments until whatever was in the vial took effect, she let out a grunt and shoved her foot into the man's sternum. Not even the sound of the cracking bone gave Natasha pleasure as she staggered over to the fallen teenager.

"Kid?" she said, collapsing onto her hands and knees next to Peter. Part of her collapse was because she wanted to check on the kid, but another part was because the pain in her ankle was suddenly much more apparent, probably thanks to whatever drug she'd been given, which was also starting to take ahold of her. "Kid?"

Peter groaned as if he heard her talking to him, but he didn't open his eyes.

Natasha's world began spinning, but she tried blinking the effects away as she pressed down on Peter's gunshot wound. It was a gut shot, and Natasha knew just by looking at it that if the kid hadn't had super powers, it would have been a fatal shot. As it was, she could tell he was fading. Or was that herself? Her head was pounding with the lightheadedness one gets right before passing out, and no matter how hard she fought against it, she knew she had seconds at the most before she was lost. She used those last few seconds to press down harder on Peter's wound, trying to staunch the blood flow and give him a bit more of a chance to survive.

Unfortunately, those few seconds passed by much faster than she wanted, and she soon felt herself falling to the side. Before she hit the ground, she vaguely felt hands catch her and lift her up, but it was at that moment that the last of the fight went out of her, and she went limp as she fell into unconsciousness.

 _0-0-0_

"Get her into one of the trucks," Alexei ordered as his men exited the room, towing an unconscious Black Widow. The henchmen nodded and hurried towards the exit. Alexei looked back in the room, thinking to himself that he should go in and make sure the teenager was dead, but the proximity alarms began blaring, alerting the Russian that someone, more than likely whoever his two prisoners had contacted, had breached perimeter. Deciding the boy wasn't worth his time or capture, Alexei turned and ran out the door.

 _0-0-0_

Stark hovered in the air as Clint and Steve raced through the gate that the billionaire had just blown to kingdom come.

"Friday, scan for Romanoff and the kid."

"On it, Boss."

Stark watched as Rogers threw his shield at the handle, completely breaking the handle off and making it easy for the two-hundred pound super soldier to simply smash through the door without even breaking stride.

Stark blasted a hole in a wall and flew into the building, using everything he had to scan the building for signs of the two captives.

"Friday, anything?"

His AI didn't even have a chance to finish her response before Clint cut in.

"Stark." Barton's tone of voice caused Stark's heart to skip a few beats. "You need to get down here."

Friday lit up a section of the building where Barton was, and the billionaire flew towards his companion. He used thermal to see where Barton was inside the room, then blasted a hole in the wall far enough away so he wouldn't hurt whoever was in the room.

The sight of Barton crouched over the limp form made Tony's heart stop for what felt like several beats.

"Sh—talk to me Barton."

Clint looked up at the billionaire. "It's bad, Tony," he said gravely.

Stark clenched his teeth, glad that he was wearing a helmet so Clint couldn't see his expression.

"I've called it in, medical's coming. They're minutes away," Clint said, pressing down on the teenager's wound. When the young man didn't even react to the pain, Stark's heart rate escalated.

"Friday?"

"He's alive, but his vitals are low. He needs immediate medical attention."

Tony was about to pick the kid up and meet medical halfway, but the voice of reason cut in.

"Stark, did you find Natasha?"

Stark hadn't even seen Steve come in behind them.

When Tony didn't answer, Steve prodded again. "Stark?"

Stark huffed. "Friday?"

"Miss Romanoff isn't in the building, but there are three trucks about a mile away, going fast," the AI supplied. Stark looked down at the teenager, shutting his eyes tightly. He knew what Steve was going to say next.

"Tony, you're the only one who can catch up to the truck," Rogers reminded him. Tony didn't answer. He wanted to just ignore the rest of the world and get the kid the medical attention he needed, but he Steve's statement also rang true. He was part of a team now; he needed to help his teammates, and he had to trust that his teammates would stay with the teenager.

"We'll keep him alive," Steve promised, as if he'd heard Stark's thoughts.

"Stark, I'll come," Barton said, standing up and unslinging his bow. Tony didn't respond, but Steve took over Clint's position, pressing down on Peter's wound. Stark grabbed Clint's arm, but before the two of them took off, the billionaire looked back at Steve.

"I'll keep him alive," Steve repeated.

Stark ground his teeth together again, but without another word he took off, flying through the holes he'd already blasted in the wall.

The two heroes caught up to the truck convoy quickly, and Stark released an arsenal at the tires of the trucks, which ruptured with loud _pops_. The billionaire coasted close to the ground and released his grasp on Clint, who fell into a roll before springing back to his feet and firing his arrows. The archer seemed like he didn't even have to look where he was aiming; all his arrows found their marks.

"Friday, where is she?"

Thermal images popped up on Tony's HUD, and in the middle truck there was a figure lying on the ground. That had to be her. Stark landed on the roof of the truck with a loud _thud,_ his feet denting wherever he stepped. He dug his fingers into the top and ripped the roof off, revealing several men inside, and just like he'd suspected, Natasha was lying on the ground. Bullets immediately began flying all around and striking his armor, but the billionaire wasn't even fazed as his suit targeted and took out the hostiles.

Once all the men shooting at him were taken care of, Stark jumped down inside and scooped up the limp Natasha in his arms. He fired off into the sky and quickly found Clint surrounded by downed henchmen.

"Stark!"

Tony touched down next to Clint, who relieved the billionaire of his red headed friend. "Get back to the kid," Clint instructed. "I've got her; meet med in the air."

"What about the rest of the men?" Stark asked as he fired a repulsor beam at an approaching enemy.

Clint set Natasha gently on the ground and pulled out his bow again. "I got a few tricks up my quiver," he assured the billionaire with a smirk. "Go."

Stark wanted to agree and take off, but he also didn't want to leave Barton alone with an unconscious Natasha. Even with how good the archer was, and even if he did take out all the men coming towards them, it would take him too long to get back to the compound carrying the unconscious woman.

"Not happening. Hold on." Stark reached out and grabbed both spies, blasting off into the air and ignoring Barton's yelled protesting.

A few moments later, too long for Tony's liking, they finally got back to the room where Peter and Steve were waiting.

"Stark," Steve said when he saw the billionaire land beside him. Tony released his hold on Clint and Natasha, setting the redhead on the ground more gently than he did Clint. The archer shook himself off once Stark let go, glaring at the billionaire.

"Take care of her," Stark instructed, gesturing to Natasha. "I'm taking him."

"Is that a good idea?" Steve asked, reluctant to step away from the teenager.

"He's bleeding out, Steve. I'm meeting the med team halfway."

Without waiting for the Captain's response, Stark shouldered past the super soldier and knelt down, picking up the teenager more gently than one would think the suit had the ability to.

"Hold on, kid," Stark muttered as he took to the skies. A little louder, he instructed, "Friday, alert whatever medical team is coming that I'm comin' in hot."

"Will do, Boss."

Stark scanned the horizon, looking for the medical team. "Come on," he muttered. "Where are they?"

 _ **Okay, so I edited this on my lunch break at work (which is now running over XD) so if it's rough/you find mistakes, let me know and I'll do my best to fix it! Sorry if it's disappointing XD**_

 _ **Let me know what you think!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hey guys. First of all, I want to say sorry that it's later than I usually post. I was out of town yesterday, and when I got home I only had the energy/time to edit and post a chapter from one of my stories, so I went with the shorter one. I usually work on writing during lunch at work, but it was a rough morning, so my best friend and I met up for lunch instead, so I'm posting now!**_

 _ **Hope it lives up to expectations, I'm so glad you guys are liking it so far!**_

Natasha's mouth was stuffed full of cotton, she was sure of it. It was the first thing she was aware of as she came to. The area she was lying on was softer than she was expecting, and she wondered what Alexei had planned. Her eyes stayed closed, and she kept her breathing even to make it seem like she was still asleep. Wherever she was, it smelled sterile, like something had just been cleaned with bleach—

"It's about time you woke up."

Natasha was taken by surprise for two reasons. One, because she hadn't picked up on the fact that there was someone else in the room with her. The second reason was because it was definitely _not_ the voice she was expecting.

She opened her eyes and looked to the left, confirming that it was Clint sitting next to her, not Alexei.

"Barton?"

"Welcome back to the land of the living," he smirked.

"You guys found us?" she asked, trailing off in a cough as she finished her question. Clint got up and handed her a cup of water.

"Yeah, we found you guys. Right in time, too. We caught the convoy taking you away."

Natasha remembered who else had been with her, and she looked sharply at the archer. "The kid?"

Clint's face fell slightly, and for a moment, Natasha felt like she'd been punched in the gut. Clint must have seen her expression change, because he shook his head.

"He's alive," he assured her. Romanoff didn't exactly feel assured, catching the way Barton said "alive" and not "okay" or "fine."

"What happened?"

"We were hoping you could help us out a little with that," Barton admitted.

Natasha cleared her hazy thoughts out as she remembered what happened. "We got out of the room they were holding us in, then called you. I tried to get Peter to leave, but he wouldn't go without me. They caught up to us, and Peter … took a bullet for me. Alexei—"

Natasha looked at Clint again. "What happened to him?"

"Shostokov?" At Natasha's nod, Clint's mouth slanted. "He got away. When Stark attacked the trucks, we figure he musta jumped ship or something. Didn't have time to look for him though; Stark was anxious to get back to Peter, and you needed medical attention too."

Natasha tried to push herself up straighter, but she had to pause when her chest and ribs began pulsing in pain.

"Take it easy," Clint cautioned. Natasha pulled the thin blanket off and looked down at her midsection, taking in the several layers of white bandages.

"Got a couple broken ribs," Barton explained. "Along with a pretty good sprained ankle."

"Clint," Natasha said, looking the archer dead in the eye and ignoring her own injuries. "What's going on with the kid?"

The archer hesitated another moment, but when he thought of the repercussions of not telling the spy what she wanted to know, he decided it was in everyone's best interest to explain. "He's alive," he repeated. "He's in pretty rough shape though. If he didn't have his super strength,—"

"He'd be dead," Natasha finished. She had figured as much when she first saw the wound. "Where is he?"

"Doctors want you to stay in bed a little longer before you get up," Barton said as he shook his head, refusing to tell her the answer. "Both of you took a pretty good beating."

"I'm fine," the redhead tried insisting. Clint pinned her with a stern look.

"Just don't fight me on this, Nat," he requested. Natasha matched his gaze, but finally backed down.

"Alright," she said, sitting back in the bed. Barton looked taken aback, and slightly suspicious. He'd expected much more of a fight. "I think I'm gonna get a little more rest," Romanoff said, leaning into the pillow and closing her eyes. Clint sat there a moment longer, his gut telling him something was up. Natasha never _ever_ gave up that easy.

Without opening her eyes, Natasha commented, "You just gonna sit there and watch me sleep?"

Unfortunately, he couldn't prove that she was planning anything, so with one last suspicious glare, Barton finally stood up and made his way out of the room. "Let me know if you need anything," he told her. Natasha hummed in agreement, and Clint left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

She barely waited five minutes before she cracked her eyes open again, satisfied to see that no one was in the room with her. She began getting out of bed and pulling at the IV in her arm, but a noise outside her room made her stop. The handle began turning, and she was forced to duck back under the covers and quickly close her eyes, feigning sleep as a nurse walked in. Papers were rustled as the nurse checked her patient's charts, and then she came over and adjusted a few buttons on Natasha's IV.

As a spy, Romanoff had been trained in many things. Waiting patiently for the right moment was one of those things, but for some reason it was all she could do not to jump out of the bed and run out while the nurse was still in the room with her. It felt like the woman would never leave, but finally Natasha heard footsteps walking away. The door was opened, and then subsequently shut.

The spy waited a few more moments to make sure the coast was clear, then opened her eyes and finished what she'd begun earlier. Once the IV was out of her arm, Natasha swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stood up but immediately almost fell over; she'd forgotten about her injured ankle. Glancing down, she saw a brace wrapped around the joint. Thankfully, now that she was aware of it, she was able to work with the pain as she looked for (and located) her clothes. They had been folded and put in one of the drawers in the dresser, and Natasha changed quickly.

She was stiff as she pulled her jacket on, but she didn't let that stop her. Her feet made no sound as she padded her way over to the door, shoes in hand. The door opened without a sound, and Natasha was glad that the hospital seemed to keep their hinges well-oiled. She was able to slip into the hallway without anyone noticing.

She walked down the hallway, holding herself as if she was doing nothing wrong, and completely avoiding any unwanted attention. However, she happened to glance in one of the windows that she passed, and the sight inside caused her to pull up short.

Casting a glance in all directions, Natasha quietly opened the door and slipped inside, closing it silently. She turned and faced the occupant in the room, keeping her demeanor calm and collected, even though her insides were roiling as she took in the sight of Peter Parker lying on the bed. There were machines all around him, and he had a breathing tube stuck down his throat. He was almost as pale as the sheets he was laying on, and Natasha's eyes narrowed as she thought about the man who had done this. She didn't speak, but she silently promised Peter that she was going to make things right. She also silently promised the teenager that once he woke up, she was going to kill him for taking the bullet for her.

After finishing her silent vows, she stood there a moment longer before turning and opening the door, once again slipping unnoticed into the hallway. Her annoyance at her limp was soon outweighed by her slightly smug satisfaction when she reached the door leading to the stairwell, but then she heard a familiar voice coming closer. It sounded like he was speaking with a doctor. The redhead quickly opened the stairwell door just wide enough for herself to squeeze through, closing it gently so that people wouldn't be alerted to her presence. She began going down the stairs, but then the voice stopped just outside the door, and Natasha couldn't help but listen to what he was saying. She was a spy; it was what she had been trained to do.

"—just want to make sure he's going to be okay," Stark was saying.

"Don't worry, Mr. Stark. Mr. Parker is a fighter. We expect, barring any unforeseen complications, that he should be waking up in a day or two."

"Good. Keep me updated."

Natasha couldn't help the smirk that spread over her face as she heard the poorly-masked concern in the billionaire's tone. Eight years ago, if someone had told her that Tony Stark would be this worried about a teenager, she would have asked what they were smoking.

Now though, Natasha knew that Stark cared more about that kid than he did almost anyone else, save for Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy. His clipped tone as he talked to the doctor may have sounded cold and calloused to anyone who didn't know the man, but Natasha did know him, and she knew that he was trying to keep himself from sounding so worried.

With a soft chuckle, Natasha made her way down the stairs. She reached the bottom floor, slightly ashamed that she was breathing heavier than usual.

 _Stupid broken ribs,_ she thought to herself as she pulled open the door leading to the exit. Thankfully, there was no one in the parking lot that would recognize her, so she didn't have to be as sneaky, though she did watch out for cameras. It wouldn't be long before someone realized she was gone, but she wanted to give herself as much time to get away before that happened, and getting caught on camera definitely wouldn't help with that.

When she'd gotten a few blocks away from the hospital, she stopped off at a small shop and grabbed a hoodie. She pulled it on over her head (ignoring the pain that flared in her ribs) and flipped the hood up so that her face, but more importantly her fiery red hair, was hidden.

Her ribs were still protesting loudly as she walked quickly through the streets, as was her injured ankle, but she didn't slow down. She couldn't. Someone was behind her; they'd been following her since she'd left the little shop. Whoever it was, she wasn't going to make things easier for them by slowing down, even if it caused her discomfort.

She finally ducked down a small side street and waited for whoever it was following her to pass by. When he finally appeared, Natasha silently grabbed the man and shoved him into the alley, moving like she was going to attack. Her punch was intercepted though, and Nat realized that the man who'd been following her was-

"Barton." She let out an exasperated sigh.

"Hey Nat," the archer replied casually, his sunglasses covering up the amusement in his eyes. His smirk was still perfectly visible though. "Where're we goin'?"

" _We're_ not going anywhere." She moved to walk away, but Barton reached out and grabbed her arm gently.

"That's cute, but you should know that it won't work on me. Come on, I've got three kids. I know how to handle stubbornness."

"Three kids. That's why you're not coming," Natasha pointed out, jerking herself out of Clint's grasp.

"Mmmm. You're sure that's what this is about? You're not trying to be the lone ranger on this mission?"

"It's not a mission, Clint. Not assigned. You don't need to come with me."

"But see, that's where being an independent man is great, because I can decide when to go and when to stay. Isn't it great being friends with me?"

"This isn't a joke."

"I know. I saw you go in and see Peter. I saw your face. That wasn't your fault, Natasha, and you know it."

"He took that bullet for me, Clint. I may not have pulled the trigger, but I'm going to make sure that Alexei pays. And you're not coming."

"Why?"

The one worded question made Natasha pause and look back at Clint incredulously. He really didn't know when to give up. The archer raised his eyebrows.

"Give me one valid reason why I can't come with you, and I'll leave you alone."

Natasha opened her mouth to answer, but Clint held up his hand. "One other thing," he added. "The arguments you used earlier didn't count then, and they don't count now."

Romanoff glared at her partner. "A valid reason is I pin you against this wall until you either pass out or agree not to follow me anymore," she threatened. Clint chuckled.

"Validity judge rules … not valid. I don't think you could pin me right now even if you wanted to."

"You wanna bet on that?"

"We could, but then we'd risk injuring you further, and the longer we sit here arguing, the longer Alexei goes without punishment."

Natasha glared at the archer again, who just smirked in reply. He held out his hands. "Come on," he said. "You won't even know I'm there."

The redhead snorted. "I'd like to see _that_ happen." She studied Barton for a moment, and he gave her puppy eyes, putting his bottom lip out in a pleading pout. After a minute, Natasha let out a long, drawn out sigh and exited the alley without saying anything. Clint followed her, despite her obvious disapproval.

"So … do you have a plan, or were you just gonna go in there and make stuff up as it happens?" Clint asked as he and Romanoff walked through the streets. "Do you even know where he's hiding out?"

Natasha didn't answer her partner, but Barton hadn't expected much else. He just trusted that the redhead knew what she was doing.

 _ **So, sorry this chapter was slow, but I had to set it up. I think next chapter will be the last, and then maybe an epilogue. Or I'll just combine the epilogue into next chapter. Maybe. I'm still trying to decide.**_

 _ **Anyway. Let me know what you think!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Here it is. The last chapter. I decided to just combine the epilogue together with this chapter, because otherwise they would have both been shorter.**_

 _ **Thank you guys for all the support you've shown me and this story! I hope the ending doesn't disappoint too much ;)**_

 _ **I don't own these characters**_

Natasha struggled in the grip of the men holding her. She tried pulling away, but when one of them drove his fist into her gut, she doubled over with a wheeze of pain, and the guards were able to move her much easier. She was dragged into a large study, with shelves full of books on war. Sitting in one of the large plush chairs was Alexei, his hands clasped in front of him as he watched the redhead struggle in the grip of his men.

"Aleksey, posmotri, kogo my nashli na ulitse!"

"Natalia," drawled the man. "You disappoint me. How are you so formidable an opponent when you couldn't even hide from my guards?"

Natasha ignored the man's question as she looked up and around the room from her position on the floor. "You couldn't hide out like a normal person, could you?" she asked, clearly unimpressed. "You just had to hunker down in your mansion."

"You want to know why I hide here?" Alexei asked. Natasha was going to say that she didn't care, but Shostokov continued on without waiting for an answer. "It is because I knew you would come for me. I study you, Natalia. Your previous actions simply proved you would come."

"So what are you going to do now?" Romanoff asked, staring at her ex with an even expression.

"What you did to me, all those years ago. I am going to use you to get information that I need about whatever it is that you do, and then I will kill you. Only unlike you, I make sure you are actually dead. It is good thing boy jumped in front of bullet; otherwise, I would have wasted a golden opportunity for information."

Natasha felt a fire clawing its way up through her chest, yearning to escape and tear into the man in front of her, but she forced it back, at least for the moment. She did allow herself a tight-lipped smile that looked more like a grimace than anything else.

"What is that look for?" Alexei asked.

"I'm just thinking about how much satisfaction it's gonna give me to wipe the floor with you," Natasha replied, a trace of the anger she was holding back slipping through in her tone. Shostokov scoffed.

"What are you going to do?" he taunted. "You are my prisoner. You are unarmed, and you are alone." The man rolled his eyes and stood up from his chair, walking over to one of the bookshelves and perusing. He picked out a book, and though Natasha couldn't see what the title said completely, she did see the Russian word for pain. She barked out a short laugh.

"Isn't it funny?" she asked with a small smirk. Alexei turned back to her, mild interest as to what she had to say in his eyes.

"What is funny?"

"That as soon as you find what you're expecting to find, you stop looking."

Shosokov's eyes narrowed in suspicion and confusion, but before he could do anything, there was a shrill, high-pitched noise, and all the windows shattered, raining glass down on everyone. With ease, Natasha jerked her hands out of the bindings, having loosened them while she was on the floor. An arrow whistled through the now-broken window in the study, and Natasha smirked as Clint slid through the window.

The archer dropped into a roll as he entered the room, but immediately popped up and began fighting the surrounding Russians. Natasha looked around for Alexei and saw him slipping through a door. Men swarmed around her, but she took care of them quickly. She began to run for the door, but paused and looked back at Clint, not wanting to-

"Go," he called out to her as he casually fired another arrow, like it was just another Tuesday. "I got this." To prove his point, Clint pulled an arrow out of his quiver and shoved it through an approaching man's side, then pulled the weapon back out before firing it at someone's foot, pinning them to the ground. Natasha knew her partner would be fine, and she continued her way out the door.

The most obvious place for Alexei to go would be upstairs, so the redhead began making her way up a spiral staircase. If men came at her, she simply dodged to the side and let them fall down the stairs, or she would use their momentum and tip them over the side of the railing. Nothing was even remotely slowing her progress. One of the men that charged at her tried firing his gun, and before she let him topple over the staircase, she plucked the weapon out of his hand.

When she got to the top of the stairs, she looked right, then left. If she knew anything about Alexei, and she knew more than she ever wanted to know about the man, she knew what room he would be in. So, turning right, she made her way down the long hallway, not bothering to try and mask her approach. When she reached the room, the pain barely registered in her ankle as she kicked the door with her good leg, putting all of her weight onto her injured ankle. She didn't fall though, and the handle broke off, immediately allowing the door to swing open.

She strode into the room and very calmly fired her recently-acquired gun at the two men standing guard inside, dropping them both with single shots to their kneecaps.

Alexei was standing behind the desk in the room as if he were trying to barricade himself from the attack. He stared at Natasha as she walked in. His eyes were slightly wider than normal, though he was trying to play it off as being enthralled.

"Natalia," he drawled. "All this just for me?" He smirked. "You do still care."

Natasha wasn't sure how on earth Alexei thought that that sentence made even a modicum of sense, but she didn't bother answering. When she continued to walk forward, Alexei decided to make his move. He brought his arm out from under his desk, a knife glinting in his hand as it swung in an arc towards the spy.

She saw it coming even before Alexei had finished revealing the knife. She easily sidestepped the wide attack and grabbed his wrist quickly, twisting it into an unnatural position. Alexei let out a shout of pain as his fingers let go of the knife involuntarily. Before the Russian could make any other move of attack, Natasha walked around the desk and slammed Shostokov down on the piece of furniture face-first.

Alexei opened his mouth, but Natasha had had enough of the man's attempts at snark. She shoved a little harder, pressing his cheek into the wood. "Talk, and we let you find out what mahogany tastes like."

Alexei wisely kept his mouth shut, at least until Natasha pulled him up off the desk.

"You think you will get away with this? I have friends, you know. Powerful friends."

"So do I." The two of them listened as the yells from Alexei's men grew more and more quiet and subdued.

"It kinda sounds like your friends aren't coming to help you right now," Natasha said, pretending to sound apologetic.

Shostokov spit out a curse at Natasha in Russian, but the spy simply tightened her grip and forced his hand a little further up his back, making him hiss in pain.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

Alexei glared at Natasha. Familiar footsteps sounded from down the hall, and suddenly Clint was there. Natasha spared a short glance at her partner, noticing that the man was covered in red, but very little of it looked like it was his. He did have a cut on his lip though. Before she coudl say anything to the archer though, Alexei spoke.

"How long before the boy bled out?" he taunted.

Faster than almost possible, Natasha dragged Alexei out from behind his desk and slammed his back against a bookshelf, releasing her hold on his wrist in order to wrap her hands around his neck. She watched as his face slowly began turning red, her gaze hardening as the man tried to pry her fingers off his neck.

Weakly, he tried kicking at Natasha's midsection, but she brought her knee into his solar plexus to quash any further attempts to get free.

"Nat, stop," Clint said, seeing the murderous light in his partner's eyes. "This is what he wants; don't let him take the easy way out."

She knew Clint was right. That didn't mean she had to like it though. It also didn't mean she had to listen. She stood there for several seconds longer, tightening her grip even more. It wasn't until Clint had walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder that she finally relaxed a little. Several more seconds ticked by before Natasha finally released the man completely, letting him fall to the ground, taking a few steps away from her ex.

Alexei massaged his neck and began laughing. "I knew you couldn't-"

The man didn't even get to finish his taunt, because Natasha turned and high-kicked the man in the face, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. His nose was clearly broken, and part of the Widow wished that he hadn't fallen unconscious so quickly, so that he could feel the pain of that.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, crouching down next to him, ignoring the smarting pain in her chest as her ribs were compressed. "What were you saying?"

"Hey," Clint said, coming up beside her and staring at the unconscious Russian. "You good?"

Natasha nodded, still glaring at the unconscious man.

"So you were engaged to him at one point?" Clint asked after a minute in a teasing tone, trying to lighten the mood. "Gotta say, doesn't really seem your type."

Natasha smirked. "He wasn't. He snored."

Clint nodded in sarcastic understanding. "Gotcha. Gotta avoid those snorers. They're a dangerous breed." He nudged her. "Come on. Let's get him and get outta here."

 _0-0-0_

Natasha walked through the hospital hallway, ignoring the exasperated looks the staff were giving her. They couldn't make her stay in bed, even if she was under strict watch from Rogers to stay in the hospital itself.

She finally made it to the room she was looking for and looked inside the window.

Peter was awake, and the breathing tube had been removed. He still looked pale and weak, but he was smiling, and seemed to be talking to whomever was in the room with him. Natasha felt a sense of relief flow through her as she finally accepted that the teenager was going to make a full recovery. Until she killed him for taking her bullet.

Before she could move to walk away, Peter looked over at her through the window on the door, making eye contact. The door was opened almost immediately, as if the teenager had sensed her there before and told whoever was inside to bring her in.

"Agent Romanoff," Stark greeted, holding the door open wider so she could come inside. "Welcome to the party."

"I don't see how this is a party," she commented with a smirk, remembering the last time she had said that to Stark.

"It's always a party when I'm around," the billionaire replied.

The redhead observed Peter closer now that she was inside. He looked exhausted; getting shot tended to do that to a person. Natasha would know.

"Feelin' alright kid?"

Peter shrugged. "Might not be able to make to our next few training sessions," he stated with a small smile. Natasha returned the smile, though it was brief.

"I think we can excuse you from one or two," she agreed. Peter could have sworn he saw the redhead wink at him, but it happened too quickly, and he knew she would deny it if he asked her about it, so he reluctantly let it go.

As the three of them were in the room, none of them noticed when Clint walked past the door.

The archer noticed the three inside and he paused. Peter looked scarily pale, though Barton knew the kid had a rapid healing factor. He'd be fine soon enough. Stark looked stressed, but Clint couldn't blame him. As for Clint's partner, the redhead's body language was hard to read, but the archer was master of telling what Natasha was actually feeling, and as he looked at her, he saw relief and relaxation. She was happy the boy was safe. If he ever said anything like that though, he knew she would deny it, and then quietly make him disappear, so he wisely decided not to say anything.

After observing the three heroes, Clint gave a small smile before turning on his heel and walking away, giving them their moment of peace. In their line of work, they would take every moment of peace they could get.

 _ **Hooray, it's over! (is what most of you are probably saying ;) ) Jk. I really do hope that you guys enjoyed the story! I'd love to hear your thoughts! And if you haven't seen, I have another Avengers story that I'm posting to, but it's just some one-shots. So if you're interested, feel free to check it out. Otherwise, you have no obligation to XD**_

 _ **Also, those of you who know my writing know that I really hate writing endings because I suck at them, so I'm sorry this is so cheesy and potentially OOC *awkward grin***_

 _ **Let me know what you think!**_

 _ **"Aleksey, posmotri, kogo my nashli na ulitse!" -Alexei, look who we found on the street!**_


End file.
